(A guest has been making snide comments about everything from the biscuits and gravy at breakfast to the TV channel that was on in the breakfast room. He has also been calling me (a 31-year-old woman) ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey’ and ‘darling’ mockingly for about 20 minutes. He sees my Kindle out on the desk and, of course, has to comment.)

Guest: “So honey, what are you reading? Twilight?” *laughs*

Me:*putting so much sugar in my voice I want to gag* “No, actually it’s a book by a nationally known but still local author called Monster Of God. It examines the cultural, ecological and economic impacts of alpha predators in areas that allow them to come in to contact and conflict with humans.” *sweet smile*

Me: “I promise you, sir, that’s not the game your son wants. If I can just—”

Customer:*to my coworker* “Can you ring this up for me, please?”

(My coworker seems a bit unsure at this point, but decides to ring it up for him anyway. The customer walks away happily with his purchase, and I make nothing more out of it. A few hours later, the customer comes storming back in, literally SLAMMING the game on the desk.)

Customer: “What the f*** is wrong with you people? Have you NO knowledge whatsoever about what you’re selling?! You got me the wrong game! My son already has this! Talk about a f****** rip off!”

(I quickly snatch a copy of ‘Mass Effect 3,’ and join them at the desk.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, but I believe this is the game you were looking for.”

(The customer stares at the game case, clearly getting more angry.)

Customer: “Well, why the h*** couldn’t you have showed it to me earlier?!”

Me: “Because you wouldn’t allow me to. You told me to go back to my Pokémon.”

(At this point, the customer blushes greatly, but before he can say anything else my coworker intervenes.)

Coworker: “Let’s just make a return on that game and ring you up the right one.”

(The customer agrees, and is acting much calmer during the transaction. I’ve gotten quite used to prejudices at this store because of my gender, but at this point I was just happy his son could finally enjoy the right game!)

(I am at a chain clothing store at the mall with my younger brother. A Hispanic family is being rung up in front of us, in the only open line. Another customer goes to the other end of the counter where nobody is working.)

Customer: “I’d like to exchange these shirts. I bought two XLs, and my girlfriend thinks they’re too big on me.”

Cashier: “Okay, sir, I’ll be with you shortly.”

Customer: “And I need to return these shoes. Can I return everything at the shoe department?”

Cashier: “No, sir, they can only take care of shoes in that department.”

(At this point the customer’s phone starts ringing, and he answers it. He starts moaning about his day to the person on the other end, occasionally burping and scratching himself.)

Customer: “Yeah, I’m here right now, but I’m stuck waiting because of these d*** Puerto Ricans who are trying to get 10% off on a f****** $10 purchase.”

(The teenage cashier finishes ringing up the family, and since my brother is next in line, the cashier starts ringing him up.)

Customer: “Hey! Why aren’t you waiting on me?!”

Younger Brother: “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a LINE.”

Customer: “Well, I started a new line. I’ve got places to go. I’m a rolling stone.”

(Yes, he actually says “rolling stone.” My brother finishes, and I’m next in line so the cashier starts ringing me up.)

Customer: “Un-f******-believable!”

Me: “You know what? Maybe if you weren’t such an impatient, loudmouth, racist, a**-hole and actually got in line, you might just actually get rung up!”

(The customer throws his stuff across the counter, even the stuff he is returning, and storms off.)

Cashier: “Sorry about that.”

Younger Brother: “No worries. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Me: “I’m a retail manager myself, and I was actually quite impressed with how cool headed you stayed dealing with that guy. Very nicely done!”

(I am an early 20s, able-bodied male, with a fair bit of muscle, and I also happen to be the only employee in the store who fits such a description.)

Me: “Hi, how are you today?”

Customer: “Good, thank you. Can I get a 55-inch [brand] TV, please?”

Me: “Why, certainly.”

(I make a phone call to the back stockroom to request the customer’s TV. While I am processing the sale, the person bringing the rather large & heavy item is one of my young female coworkers.)

Coworker: “Here’s your TV, ma’am! If you’re done shopping today, I will be glad to take this to your car!”

Customer:*to me* “Shame on you, young man. Shame on you!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t quite follow.”

Customer: “How dare you make such a fragile young girl bring out something so big! She could’ve seriously injured herself! You should be ashamed!”

Me: “Believe me, ma’am: I would prefer to have done this job myself, but I have no control over my position. They put me on cash because I happened to be a little better at it, and my coworker here does this all the time.”

Customer: “This is not right! This is not right at all! A tall, bulky man like you should do the heavy lifting! Not this poor skin and bones over here!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m seriously okay with this. When women fought for equal rights long ago, they knew that this was going to happen. And I’m glad it did.”

Customer: “But girls sh—”

Coworker: “Girl power! That’s what it is!”

Customer: “Alright fine, just load the d*** TV into the truck already.”

(My coworker helps the customer with her TV. A few weeks later, the same customer is at my till once again, this time, to buy a couch.)

Customer: “Alright, I know that a couple of weeks ago, that nice, young girl proved more than capable of doing this. But I still feel really bad for her, so can you get somebody else to help me?”

Me: “Not a problem, ma’am, she isn’t even in today.”

(This time, I call my manager to bring out the couch.)

Manager: “Okay, ma’am, where are you parked?”

(The customer takes a good look at my manager. Although my manager is a man, he very much looks like he is approaching his 70s.)